Gemotions

"So, here's your desk," Mr. Henderson said, gesturing toward a corner office that felt enormous, empty. The sunlight poured in through a large window, but the brightness only made John feel more exposed. He couldn't help but run a hand over his forehead.

The move from the research lab to the executive suite was jarring. He had spent years in the quiet of his laboratory, surrounded by test tubes and data. He had never been good with people. He didn't know the first thing about office politics.

"You'll be meeting with the board tomorrow morning," Mr. Henderson continued, his voice echoing slightly in the vast space. The words hung in the air, heavy and significant. He nodded, managing a shaky smile. The prospect of facing the board made his chest feel tight, and he wanted to run.